


So Much for Our Happy Endings

by CarrKicksDoor



Series: Wars in Peacetime [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: New Republic Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: X-wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrKicksDoor/pseuds/CarrKicksDoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inryi and Hobbie thought their secret was safe. They should have known that nothing escapes New Republic Intelligence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much for Our Happy Endings

**Author's Note:**

> Five years after _The Hand of Thrawn_ duology

The sea of shining faces—some human, some green and some furry—were happily looking up at the teacher in front of the room when Inyri poked her head into the program room. “Good afternoon, kids,” she said, smiling.   
  
A chorus of voices all spoke at once as the kids got up and rushed towards her, greeting her in numerous dialects. Behind them, she saw her husband, stepping over the mats in the floor as she was swarmed by the children. “All right, you rats, let Inyri get a breath. Go back and sit down, and we’ll finish story time here in a minute, all right?” Wes Janson smiled at his wife, now with an armful of a small girl. He kissed Inyri, and smiled at the girl in his wife’s arms. “Lace, why don’t you go sit down with the others? Your mom is going to be here soon.”   
  
Inyri put Lace down, and Wes moved into to kiss her again. Several of the young boys cried “Ew,” at them, and Wes grinned as he turned around. “Just you all wait until you get to be my age. Then you’ll think girls are cool.”   
  
One wrinkled his nose at him. “Not for kissing. That’s gross.”   
  
Inyri swooped down and picked the boy up. “And what would you say if I kissed you all over then?”   
  
He turned red as Inyri sat down and put him in her lap. “Shh,” she said, pointing towards Wes. “He’s going to finish the story.”   
  
Wes’ comedic talents let him do the voices in the book perfectly, and by the time he was finished, parents had started appearing. Within fifteen minutes, the children had all retrieved their coats and scampered out of the room. Inyri smiled as Lace, the last one to leave, waved goodbye to them.   
  
“I saw two new ones today,” Inyri said, as Wes wrapped his arm around her. “Your after-school program is really taking off.”   
  
Wes grinned. “I know. We’re going to have to find the money for another teacher, though, to help the older ones with their homework. The young ones are easy to entertain, but Bith Literature is beyond me.”   
  
“I still think you should try having some of the older kids help out with some of the younger ones,” Inyri said. “I mean, it doesn’t help the problem with needed help for the older ones, but still.”   
  
Wes nodded, pulling her close. “You’re off duty for the rest of the day?”   
  
Inyri nodded. “And only two more weeks left on duty until my retirement is official from today.” She patted his chest. “What do you think about that?”   
  
“I think you should start studying up on Bith Literature,” Wes said.   
  
***   
  
“Congratulations, Hobbie. I just got you a deal for another book.”   
  
Hobbie looked bemusedly at his agent, who was sitting across the desk from him and had consumed entirely too much caf. “Fantastic. I’ve been working on this plot ever since I started the book on the Battle of Coruscant. It really shouldn’t take me long to put out a first draft—I’ve got the entire story worked out.”   
  
Loral, his agent, fidgeted. “Well, I didn’t exactly get you the deal for that book, Hobbie,” he said. “It’s not that they aren’t interested in a fiction book from you, but all your non-fiction writing has sold so well, and really, they want more non-fiction writing from you. So, they want another non-fiction book.”   
  
Hobbie sighed. “I’ve covered the big battles, Loral. Hoth, Coruscant, Endor, which I swore never to do, and Yavin, which I wasn’t actually in.” He shrugged. “I could do Bakura, or the incident with the Black Fleet, but really, I wasn’t that involved in either of those. Part of why I’m a reliable source is because I’m actually there.”   
  
“Can’t you do the search for Zsinj?” Loral said. “We keep having people wanting you do write about that.”   
  
Hobbie sighed. “I told you already, Loral, half of that stuff is classified. It could be years until it’s declassified.”   
  
Loral looked at him from across the desk. “They offered you the fiction book if you did this non-fiction book first.”   
  
If looks could kill, Loral would have been blown backwards through several walls, through transparisteel windows and falling through the mists all the way to wherever the ground on Coruscant might be. “Send me the contract in the morning, then,” Hobbie said.   
  
***   
  
“To Inyri’s retirement,” Wes said, raising his glass. “To Hobbie’s new books, and to the school.”   
  
Inyri smiled as she clinked her glass against her husband’s, and Hobbie lifted his before taking a drink of his elba beer. “We all seem to have opportunities coming around left and right,” Hobbie remarked. “Everything seems to be falling into place for all of us at the same time for once.”   
  
“Hear, hear,” Inyri said, smiling.   
  
Wes smiled at the two people in the galaxy he cared the most for. “To the three of us, then. That all our days will be this happy from now on.”   
  
***

   
Inyri had long learned to treat summons from Intelligence with suspicion and loathing. When she sat down in outside Airen Cracken’s office next to Hobbie Klivian, the suspicion and loathing turned into an outright fear and dread that congealed in the pit of her stomach into a ball of complete unease. “Don’t tell me. You got a call from him as well.”   
  
Hobbie nodded. “When he calls, it’s in your best interest to answer. I actually got an agent in person at my door. Seemed to think I might not come without a personal escort.”   
  
The young woman sitting at the receptionist’s desk was quiet as they said this, but Inyri suspected that she was taking down everything they said, and that the receptionist was ten times more deadly than Inyri and Hobbie put together. “The general will see you two now.”   
  
The door to Cracken’s office opened and glancing at Hobbie, Inyri rose, straightened her uniform and entered before him. Cracken was sitting at his desk. His office was surprisingly bare, the only decoration a rather depressingly dark modern painting over his head and a revolving holo on his desk. Even the pictures of his family in the holo were formal pictures with no indication of warmth in them.   
  
“Please sit down,” Cracken said, not bothering to look at the two of them as they entered the room.   
  
“I prefer to stand,” Inyri said as Hobbie moved to sit down in one of the chairs across from Cracken’s desk.   
  
“Really, Major Forge,” Cracken said, looking up slightly, “you should probably save your belligerence for later in this conversation.”   
  
Inyri sat down, firmly resolved to remain belligerent. “Then, respectfully, General, what do you want? I have two weeks until retirement, and I’m having a hard time figuring out what you want with me right now.”   
  
The general finally put down his datapad and looked up at the two of them. “I have need of you both. I need you to retrieve a datarod for me. It’s got some valuable information regarding a few gentlemen in the Empire and the Corporate Sector. You two are going to go get it for me.”   
  
“Odd that you’re so definite on the fact that we’re going to get it for you,” Hobbie said. “I don’t work for you anymore, and if I remember correctly, Inyri isn’t an Intelligence officer. How does this work then?”   
  
“It works as in I have information that I believe Major Janson would find incredibly interesting,” Cracken said, standing up. His tone was carefully non-judgmental. “In that during the time you, Major Forge, were separated from him, you slept with Major Klivian. Twice.”   
  
They both stood up then, Hobbie so quickly and with such violence that his chair flew backwards. Inyri was already throwing invective towards Cracken but found her voice gone as Hobbie was suddenly at the general’s throat, his hands fisted in the material of the man’s uniform. “You don’t even want to go there,” Hobbie said, his tone dangerous.   
  
“I suggest you let me go, Major,” Cracken said, his voice even. “Immediately.”   
  
“Hobbie,” Inyri said, her voice almost begging him to heed her words before he did something incredibly stupid. “Let him go, _please_.”   
  
Hobbie’s hands released Cracken’s uniform almost immediately. “Start talking before I have the sudden urge to smash your head through your desk.”   
  
Cracken almost nonchalantly straightened his uniform. “I have no personal objections to your indiscretions,” he said. “I am merely stating that the fact that I possess such information is one of the reasons you will go on this mission for me.”   
  
“One of the reasons?” Inyri said suspiciously.   
  
“I am prepared to offer incentives as well,” Cracken said. “For example, I believe you wished to retire at the rank of Commander, Major Forge. And I’m certain that I can come up with the funds somewhere for you to be able to hire another teacher for Major Janson’s after-school program.” He turned his attention to Hobbie. “And I’m sure I can see my way towards declassifying the information related towards the hunt for Zsinj.” Cracken’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Hobbie. “And you, Major Klivian, still owe me a favor, if you remember correctly. Surely you didn’t think I was never going to call it in.”   
  
The look on Hobbie’s face was pure fury. “You’ve got us all bought and paid for, don’t you? Must be nice, Cracken.”   
  
Inyri carefully laid a hand on Hobbie’s arm to prevent him from carrying out his threat of smashing Cracken’s head through the desk. Besides, she wanted first crack at the wily old man if violence was going to ensue. “We’re not your playthings. You have thousands of Intelligence officers that you could send after this. Why us?”   
  
Cracken resumed his seat behind his desk. “Entertainment value.”   
  
Hobbie broke out swearing in a Ralltiir dialect, and Inyri couldn’t blame him. “If that’s it, then I suggest you call the Twi’lek dancing establishement. We’re not a kriffing holo.”   
  
“Please, Major Klivian,” Cracken said. “You should learn to appreciate irony a little more. It so happens that you actually know the contact, Major Klivian. His name is Commander Vash Ganesis. Served the Imperial Fleet with distinction for many years, and like yourself, after his retirement, began writing accounts of battles he was part of. It so happens that you will be meeting him at a joint book signing on Kaing-lang. He has the information we need.” He turned to Inyri. “You, Major Forge, will find it necessary to take your trainee squadron out on a training run before their graduation from the academy. This run will take place near Kaing-lang, and you will join Major Klivian at the book signing as a guest of honor, due to your featured prominence in his books.”   
  
Cracken looked up. “In addition, we will then have your squadron standing by should you need air cover for any reason, although I see no reason why they should. Normally, I would consider this mission for Major Klivian alone, however, Imperial Intelligence suspects that Ganesis may be planning to defect. This is hardly true, as he is much more use to us from the Empire, but you may need backup.”   
  
He held out a datacard. “Here are the mission parameters. And I’ll remind you that this is entirely classified.” His eyes focused on Inyri. “That includes your husband, Commander Forge.”   
  
Inyri snatched the datacard out of his hand. “Damn you, Cracken. Damn you to the ninth Corellian hell.”   
  
Cracken barely smiled. “Good day, Commander. Major.”   
  
It took Inyri a second to realize that they were being dismissed, and once she did, she gritted her teeth before executing a perfect about face and walking out the door, Hobbie in perfect step behind her.   
  
They didn’t speak until they were out on the street, and Inyri had a chance to look at his furious face once again. “More lies,” Hobbie growled. “Figures.”   
  
Inyri shook her head as she opened the door to her speeder. “No. No more lies.”   
  
He looked at her, not understanding as she unlocked the other door and gestured for him to get in. “What do you mean?”   
  
Inyri fixed him with a stare. “I mean that we go tell my husband the truth.”   
  
***   
Inyri braced herself for the inevitable explosion coming out of Wes. It never came, though, and she bit her lip as Wes braced himself against the counter, staring at the floor. “Are you angry?” she asked.   
  
He looked up at her. “Cracken is forever wanting these things. Why us, I don’t know. But if you don’t want to go, I’ll support you. We’ve still got connections. We can go over Cracken’s head. You’ve only got two weeks until you hit retirement, Inyri.”   
  
“I know,” she said. “But he is offering a lot in return, and the orders would take a lot to fight at this point.” Inyri paused. “We could get the other teacher for the school. And with the extra money, we might be able to convince my parents to finally move off Kessel.” She looked back at Hobbie, who was standing off to the side, staring at his feet. He hadn’t been entirely approving of this plan, but Inyri had decided anyway, and he had to go along. Their secret was still secret, but Inyri was unwilling to lie anymore to her husband. “And he’s declassifying the information about the search for Zsinj for Hobbie,” she added.   
  
Wes glanced at Hobbie. “He doesn’t know about Kirney, does he?”   
  
Hobbie shook his head. “Lara Notsil is dead. I’m not about to ruin Myn’s marriage for the sake of an expose. Especially after they’ve worked this long and hard and sacrificed what they have for to keep it together.” Hobbie hesitated. “But I owe Cracken. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”   
  
Wes made a face, straightening himself. “If you have to go, then at least you’ll have Inyri at your back.”   
  
***   
  
Lying in bed, Wes’s arms were wound about Inyri’s body more tightly than usual. She was awake, staring at the ceiling in the bedroom, and Wes, even in his semi-conscious state, could tell that thoughts were racing through her head. The words bubbled out of her mouth, and even she looked surprised when she said them. “Wes? Tell me you love me.”   
  
He opened his eyes all the way, still not entirely awake. “I love you, Inyri,” he said, his voice hoarse from his sleepy state. “Why do you need to ask?”   
  
She didn’t answer his question. “You’ll always love me?”   
  
Wes tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her onto her side to look at him. “Always. Don’t you ever doubt that.”   
  
“Even if something happened?” she pressed.   
  
He was fully awake now, her questions no longer requiring the rote, yet truthful, answers. But he’d dealt with Inyri’s insecurities for a long time and did his best to reassure her. “Even then. Especially then.” He paused. “Does this have something to do with Cracken and the mission?”   
  
“Why do you ask?” Inyri said, leaning her forehead against his.   
  
“You usually don’t wake me up in the middle of the night to ask me if I love you,” he answered quietly.   
  
She sighed. “I’m worried. Cracken has to have something up his sleeve.”   
  
“When doesn’t he?” Wes asked, brushing her hair from her face. “But I know what’s happening, and if something does happen while you’re out there, so help me, Inyri, a Star Destroyer couldn’t keep me away from trying to help you.” His expression grew completely serious. “I promise.”   
  
She nestled herself up against him, then, and Wes buried his face in her hair, hoping to provide as much comfort to her that he could in the short time they had. “I love you, Wes,” she whispered. “Remember that.”   
  
“I will,” he said softly, but Inyri was gone to sleep, leaving him to lie there and breathe in the scent of her hair and wonder what was going on.   
  
***   
  
Inyri started her X-wing up, letting the roar of the engines fill her ears and the vibrations move through her body. “Yellow Wookiee One to squad. By the numbers, people.”   
  
Her X-wing lurched forward out of the bay as the rest of the training squadron followed her. Inyri reflected once again that Yellow Wookie was a terrible squadron name, even for a training squadron.   
  
“We’re clear for space,” Two said.   
  
“Negative, Two,” Inyri said. “We’ve got a visit to make first. Wookiees, parade formation. Form up on me. There are some kids that are going to enjoy this.”   
  
Brazenly breaking traffic patterns, Inyri led the squadron to a familiar building. Slowing her fighter, she could see the faces of Wes’ students pressed up against the window in awe, and she pulled her X-wing up to hover in front of the building. Wes gave her a wave. “All right, Wookiees. Now we can leave.”   
  
***   
  
Hobbie’s first stop was not Kaing-lang, but Muunilinst. His singing went as well as could be expected, considering he was in Imperial territory and until a few years before had been on the Empire’s most wanted list, along with Wes, Inyri, Wedge, Tycho, Corran, Luke, Han, Lando, most of the rest of the squad and Wraith Squadron in its entirety.   
  
The people that did show up didn’t find him in his normal, cheerful public persona as he signed datacards and scraps of flimsi. One Imperial officer even bought one of the few actual books Hobbie had signed, and left without being overly snobbish about the whole thing. Hobbie reflected that the hardcopy had cleared the man out of most of his spending money for the pay period and didn’t let it bother him.   
  
After three hours, he got up, nodded to the manager of the bookstore, and headed straight for the spaceport. Muunlinst, while not on the list of the five most beautiful planets in the Empire, was a pretty place, but he didn’t see any of the sights as he walked back to the spaceport, his bag over his shoulder. The architecture, thought to be some of the finest in the galaxy was lost on him as he focused inward on his own thoughts.   
  
His thoughts were focusing more and more on Inyri.   
  
The betrayal inherent in the direction his mind kept taking felt like the weight of a Hutt on his shoulders. He stared at his feet, watching the duracrete of the sidewalk pass beneath him.   
  
Coruscant was safe. Wes was there, and when Wes was there, Hobbie didn’t see Inyri alone. For all these years, he’d been able to ignore the secret that had been weighing on his heart, and making him sick with guilt every time he locked eyes with Inyri, which he did less and less.   
  
He wished like hell he was someplace else.

***   
  
Commander Vash Ganesis was one of those men in the Empire who had been in every serious conflict that had afflicted the Empire during the Rebellion. He had served quietly, preferring other men to take command and take the fall, and escaped great notice by his superiors, despite his booming voice and boorish manner. Hobbie was certain the man could have been a drill sergeant.   
  
“Major Klivian,” the man boomed. “So you were one of those rats that put the Empire into the condition it’s in today,” he said, striding towards Hobbie, his hand held out in something approximating friendship. It was obvious the man had never been a starfighter pilot. He was nearly twice Hobbie’s size, and gritting his teeth, Hobbie tried to smile as he took Ganesis’ hand.   
  
“Well, you would be one of those rats that made me get in an X-wing in the first place,” Hobbie said, his attempt to keep smiling more difficult as he shook the man’s hand. It felt like Ganesis was crushing small bones in his hand.   
  
The hotel suite was suitably lavish for the respective Heroes of the New Republic and Empire. This particular one belonged to Ganesis, and Hobbie, after landing, had paid him a visit. He didn’t dare speak of his true mission there as a few people were milling about the room. They appeared innocuous, but Hobbie could see evidence of security training in their stances. “I hear,” Ganesis boomed, “that we are to be joined tomorrow by another rat of your allegiance for our signing.”   
  
Hobbie gingerly accepted the ale he was brought by one of the disguised security officers. “I don’t believe you’ll call Major—excuse me—Colonel Forge-Janson a rat once you lay eyes on her, Commander. While you and I may share the beady eyes of a rodent, she does not.”   
  
“Well spoken,” Ganesis boomed. “I do hope that the two of you will join me for dinner tomorrow night. On my publisher’s tab, to be certain. What’s the good of having an expense account if you can’t use it, I say. Nerf steaks all around, Major Klivian.” He peered at Hobbie. “You aren’t a vegetarian, are you?”   
  
“Ah, no,” Hobbie said. “I fully support the eating of nerf steaks whenever I can get them, which is not that often.”   
  
“Good!” Ganesis nearly shouted. “I knew an X-wing pilot couldn’t subsist on an herbivore’s diet. We will have an excellent repast when your Colonel Janson—Forge-Janson gets here.” He winked. “If she is as lovely as you say, I shall see if I cannot convince her to leave that reprobate of a husband of hers! I do know of Wes Janson.”   
  
Hobbie gave him a tight smile. “That’s highly unlikely to happen. Wes and Inyri are very much devoted to one another. It would take a calamity—one the size of the Death Star—to drive them apart.”   
  
“Too bad,” Ganesis said, setting aside his ale. “I could use a new mistress.”   
  
Hobbie closed his eyes and took a drink. This was going to be a long mission.   
  
***   
  
Inyri was sure her squadron was wondering what was wrong with her by the time that she left them outside Kaing-lang. She landed outside Capital City as the sun began rising in the morning sky, and saw one lone figure waiting for her at the edge of the landing field. He began approaching as she climbed down, and she couldn’t see his face in the shadow. Her hand twitched towards her blaster until she recognized the silhouette as Hobbie Klivian.   
  
Pulling her helmet off, she offered him a smile. “Good morning.”   
  
“Good morning,” he answered, moving around to the back of her X-wing and pulling out her bag for her. He shouldered it before she could take it from him. “How was the flight?”   
  
“Oh, you know, the usual. About the same you’d see with a training squadron. Squashed a couple of egos. Broke up a couple of arguments. I’m going to flunk them all. None of them can fly,” she said. “You?”   
  
He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I perhaps ought to get here early and warn you about Commander Ganesis. He’s—well—you remember old Bristles?”   
  
“From Commenor? The one with the mustache? The one whose arm I broke when he slapped my butt?” Inyri said. “What about him?”   
  
“Ganesis is a thousand times worse than Bristles,” Hobbie said. “I believe his idea was to seduce you because he could use a new mistress.”   
  
“Sithspit,” Inyri said. “I can’t go breaking his arm, can I?”   
  
Hobbie shook his head, gesturing towards the speeder he’d rented. “I did explain that you were very much in love with your husband. I hope that he’ll leave you alone.”   
  
Inyri looked at him as she got in. “He better not slap my rear end, Hobbie.”   
  
“He’s taking us to the nicest restaurant on Kaing-lang tonight,” he offered as a means of placating her.   
  
Inyri looked at him. “Which is exactly what on this rock? Bith takeout?”   
  
“I was promised a nerf steak,” Hobbie said, gunning the engine. The hotel wasn’t far from the spaceport. “I’ll be damned if he backs down on that offer.”   
  
“Nerf steak?” Inyri said, considering. “Maybe I won’t break his arm after all.”   
  
Hobbie shot a glance at her. “I’d appreciate it.”   
  
***   
  
Ringing the bell to Ganesis’ suite, Hobbie waited for one of the attendants to answer and was surprised when Ganesis himself answered. “Major!” he bellowed. “Come in, come in. Have you picked up that lovely lady you were speaking about last night?”   
  
“Yes,” Hobbie said. “She’s in my suite at the moment, making use of the refresher and getting out of her flight suit. It’s been quite a long flight for her.”   
  
“I can imagine,” Ganesis said, thumping Hobbie on the back. “Are you ready for our adoring public this afternoon, my friend? My agent assures us that our combined star power will draw quite the crowd today at the shoplex.”   
  
“Oh, I’m more than ready,” Hobbie said. “Been exercising my hand for all those autographs.”   
  
Ganesis paused for a moment before roaring with laughter. “Good one! Good one, old boy!”   
  
The bell rang again. “That’ll be Inyri,” Hobbie said, moving towards the door, but Ganesis moved his ponderous bulk to the door faster than he could get there.   
  
“Colonel Forge-Janson,” the Imperial said, his voice suddenly becoming smoother than Lando Calrissian’s. “Welcome to my humble abode away from home.” He took her hand and kissed it. Hobbie made a face behind him. Inyri caught it out of the corner of her eye and barely kept from laughing.   
  
“Commander Ganesis. I’m honored to make your acquaintance,” she said. Hobbie recognized the tone. It was the one she used when speaking to Fey’lya.   
  
“Do, sit down, my dear,” Ganesis said, gesturing towards the hoversofa in the middle of the living area in the suite.   
  
“I’m afraid that’ll be quite impossible,” Inyri said. “I believe I’ve taken up all our visiting time getting ready. Perhaps we can visit later this evening. Hobbie’s told me that you’ve invited us to dinner tonight.”   
  
“Indeed,” Ganesis said, his eyes fixed on her face. Hobbie swept around and took Inyri’s hand under his arm.   
  
“Shall we go?” he said, perhaps too brightly. Inyri nodded, and Hobbie looked back at Ganesis. “She’s happily married,” he hissed, “and her husband is my best friend. Lay off.”   
  
***  

The signing had gone about as well as Hobbie had hoped. There had been a decent crowd, and more than one person had bought copies of both Hobbie’s and Ganesis’ accounts of the Battle of Coruscant in order to compare the two, and then gotten Inyri’s autograph besides. Hobbie and Inyri had made their excuses to Ganesis and retired to Hobbie’s suite to get ready for dinner, and as the door shut behind Hobbie, Inyri fell onto the couch with visible relief. “He’s worse than Bristles ever thought about being.”   
  
“He hasn’t made a move for your rear end,” Hobbie said, sitting down at the end of the couch. Inyri promptly flopped her feet into her lap, and he glanced down at her. He’d more than once seen she and Wes sit like this on their own couch, and thought how nice it would be to be that blissfully happy.   
  
“I’m afraid if he gets too much lomin ale in him tonight, he might,” Inyri said, laughing. “How much time do we have before we have to go to dinner?”   
  
Hobbie glanced over his shoulder at the chrono on the wall. “Hour and a half.”   
  
Inyri reached for the vid controller on the table. “Means I’ve got an hour before I’ve got to get ready.” She turned the vid controller to _Coruscant Hourly_ before turning back to look at him and wiggling her toes at him. “Hey. Rub my feet.”   
  
“My name is not Wes Janson,” he remarked wryly.   
  
“Pretend,” she said, turning her attention to the vid. Hobbie hesitated for only a moment, before suddenly reaching out to grasp onto the world of make-believe and putting himself into the place of his best friend for an hour to be blissfully happy.   
  
***   
  
“To us and our successes!” Ganesis roared, and Hobbie barely managed to keep himself from wincing as other patrons of the restaurant looked towards the Imperial raising his wine glass. To his credit, Hobbie did the same as Inyri, and instead of cringing, simply clinked his wine glass against the Imperial’s. “Inyri, I must say, you look positively outstanding. I would not be surprised if men were shooting themselves for you.”   
  
Hobbie privately agreed. Inyri was wearing a red dress, the one Wes had bought for her not long after their marriage. It was one of those dresses of a timeless style, and it still fit her perfectly. There was a mystery to her in this dress that caused every man that looked at her to want to solve that mystery.   
  
“Now,” Ganesis said, his tone lower and more conspiratorial. “I have something for you.”   
  
Hobbie shared a glance with Inyri before looking at Ganesis. Inyri spoke. “Vash, is this—“   
  
Ganesis pulled out a box bearing the mark of a jewelry maker. “For you, my dear. A creature of such loveliness should not have her neck unadorned.”   
  
Inyri glanced at Hobbie before taking the box. She opened it, and gasped. “It’s lovely!”   
  
Ganesis offered a smile, one that was unusual in that it was not over the top. “It may take some care to exact the beauty from that crystal, but I assure you, it is worth it.”   
  
Inyri lifted the necklace from the case, and Hobbie finally got a glance at it. From the gold chain hung a geometrically shaped crystal, and he suddenly understood why Cracken had insisted Inyri come along. “Hobbie,” Inyri said. “Would you help me?”   
  
“Of course,” Hobbie said, taking the necklace. Carefully undoing the clasp, he draped it around Inyri’s neck and fastened it, his fingers brushing against the nape of her neck. “There.”   
  
She turned back around, giving him and Ganesis both a blinding smile. The crystal nestled between her breasts, picking up the light off her red dress, and Hobbie felt himself take a sharp breath in. “What do you think?” she asked.   
  
Ganesis applauded silently. “Lovely, my dear, lovely. What do you think, Klivian?”   
  
Hobbie finally dragged his eyes away from Inyri and took a sip of his wine. “Beautiful,” he agreed, missing Inyri’s forehead wrinkle in concern.   
  
For the moment, though, he had to focus. Their entire mission now hung around Inyri’s neck.   
  
***   
  
When they returned back to the suite, after exchanging long, protracted goodbyes with Ganesis—Inyri had been forced to endure an entreaty for her to come with the Imperial—Hobbie watched Inyri pull a small comlink-sized device from her purse. Carefully, she pointed it around the room until she’d made a complete circle. Satisfied, she put it away. “Thank the stars that’s over.”   
  
Hobbie unbuttoned his jacket. “No kidding. I’m not sure dinner with Ganesis was worth the nerf steak.”   
  
Inyri reached up behind her neck to unclasp the crystal. “Sithspit. Hobbie, I can’t get it. Do you mind?”   
  
He moved behind her, and carefully undid the necklace, dropping the crystal into her hands, trying to ignore her nearly bare shoulders and back. “There you go.”   
  
“Are you okay?” she said suddenly, holding the crystal in her hand.   
  
He feigned surprise. “I’m fine. Why?”   
  
She crossed her arms. “You seem to be acting a little weird.”   
  
He shrugged, not answering. She took two steps towards him. “Hobbie. You can’t pretend with me.”   
  
“I’m just ready to be home,” he said, which was true.   
  
She looked as if she didn’t quite believe him, but took his words anyway. “I’m going to go change,” she said, turning towards the bedroom. “Squad’s expecting me back soon.”   
  
He watched her go, watched the muscles in her back ripple as she moved. She turned back to look at him at the door. “Don’t look like that,” she said quietly.   
  
He turned his head. “Like what?”   
  
“Like you still want me,” she said.   
  
He felt the ball of dread hit in the pit of his stomach. “Inyri—“   
  
She stepped towards him. “Hobbie, you’ve been looking at me like that all evening. I’m not blind. You’re more obvious than Ganesis in certain ways.”   
  
He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, causing it to stick up at wild angles. “Stars, Inyri. I’m sorry. I never would—I didn’t mean—“ Words failed him.   
  
Her eyes glimmered, as if she was holding back tears, and she turned back around, walking towards the bedroom. The door shut behind her, denying any invitation to enter.   
  
Hobbie sat down at the table and put his head in his hands, running through every curse he knew in his head.   
  
***   
  
The door shut behind Inyri, and she leaned against it, ignoring the cold metal against her bare back. Sithspawn, what had she done?   
  
She cursed Cracken to the very depths of the Corellian hells for this, for dredging up all these problems and these feelings. The vindictive woman who had slept with Hobbie Klivian was gone. The woman who had gone to him for comfort, though, was not. But she was desperately in love with her husband, and nothing was going to change that, not even the despondent looks she got from Hobbie.   
  
Inyri sat down on the bed for a moment, taking in even, deep breaths to keep from crying. This was all her fault, she knew quite well. If it hadn’t been for a few of her stupid choices, this wouldn’t have happened, and they would all be happy. She was holding on to hope, though, that this wouldn’t all end in ruin.   
  
The thump from outside the door interrupted her thoughts. It sounded far too much like a body hitting the ground. Grabbing her blaster, Inyri stood back against the wall and triggered the door to open. Swinging her blaster around to fire, she realized she was out of luck.   
  
One man was on the ground, apparently incapacitated. Hobbie was on his knees, hands on his head, two blasters leveled at him, his face bearing an expression of utter frustration. Three more were pointing towards her. “Drop your blaster and come out, Colonel. And bring that crystal with you.”   
  
***   
  
When the doorbell rang, Wes Janson stared at the door for a moment. Inyri wasn’t supposed to be home yet, and he took a look around. Ithorian takeout containers littered the table. His boots were sitting in the chair, and he had a stack of brightly colored artwork from his kids covering the counter in the kitchen. In addition, in front of him stood a tower of red clay that he had been absently playing with while watching the new shockball reports.   
  
If Inyri was back early, he was in so much trouble.   
  
Brushing his hands off on his pants to get rid of any clay residue, Wes walked to the door, hastily picking up most of the empty food containers and shoving them into the trash as he did so. Slapping the open switch, he stopped.   
  
Airen Cracken stood in front of him and fear suddenly stabbed Wes in the chest. There was no way Cracken would have ever come down here himself unless something had gone drastically wrong. “Sithspit, what have you done?” Wes said.   
  
Cracken didn’t falter. “May I come in?” he said. Wes stood aside, letting him enter, speechless for once in his life.   
  
The aging general looked tired. His hair was graying, and it seemed that the choices he had made were catching up with him in the wrinkles in his face and in the stoop in his back. His eyes tracked to the stack of colorings on the counter, most of which were waiting for Wes to clear a place on the refrigeration unit to put them up. He picked up the top one, which showed a child’s reasonable approximation of Wes and Inyri holding hands with the inscription “I love Mr. Wes and Miss Inri.” There were even two X-wings in the background and Inyri was in dressed in her uniform.   
  
“What’s happened?” Wes said, his voice hollow.   
  
Cracken turned. “Your wife and Major Klivian have been on a mission for me to retrieve a data crystal—“   
  
Wes interrupted him. “Yes, I know about all that. What’s happened?”   
  
“They’ve been captured,” Cracken said. “Imperial forces on Kaing-lang are holding them at the moment until they can decode the crystal they were sent to retrieve. Their contact was killed during capture. It’s staying very quiet at the moment. No one wants to tip off anyone in the Corporate Sector that we’ve got this information or restart the war over this incident.”   
  
“I’ll be ready in half an hour,” Wes said, turning around. He ran his hands through his hair. He’d have to get a substitute teacher for however long he’d be gone—that was the important thing. He’d need to tell Wedge he was going to be gone too. The general would be able to take care of anything that came up while he was gone.   
  
“Major Janson,” Cracken said, “I didn’t come here to suggest that you go after them yourself. I just came to inform you of the situation.”   
  
Wes turned around, fury on his face. “ _My_ wife, Cracken. _My wife._ You sent my wife on this kriffing mission two weeks before she was supposed to retire. And then you think I’m not going to go help rescue her? You’re a hell of a lot dumber than I thought you were.”   
  
Cracken’s expression became stony. “Let me tell you something, Wes Janson. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have, and I can assure you that I will handle this.”   
  
“No,” Wes said. “You will not handle this.” He stepped up to the old man. Wes wasn’t tall, by any stretch of the imagination, but for those who were used to seeing him jovial, it was a shock to see him with this deadly expression on his face. “ _I_ will handle this. Inyri is _my_ wife. You couldn’t save your own. What makes you think I’m going to put mine in your care?”   
  
Cracken had nothing to say at that, and Wes could clearly see that the comment he’d made about Josta Cracken had wounded the old man, but he was too deep into his own anger to care. “Now,” Wes said. “I’m going to get a couple of the Wraiths together. And then we’re going after my wife. If it means I have to call in every last favor I have, I will. But right now, you are going back to your office and you’re going to get your extraction plan, and you’re going to start modifying it. Now.”   
  
He opened the door back up. “Get out.”   
  
Cracken turned, still apparently reeling from Wes’ comment, and walked out into the hallway.   
  
Ignoring the mess in the apartment, Wes grabbed his boots from the chair, tugging them on his feet as he cast his gaze about for his comlink. Digging it out from underneath the table, he flicked it on, tuning to a frequency he hadn’t bothered to connect to in a while.   
  
“Loran,” a very feminine voice said over the com.   
  
“Brianna?” Wes said. “It’s Janson. Tell Face I need to talk to him. It’s important.”   
  
*** 

They sat in the shuttle, gathered around the table. Janson, Face, Face’s wife, Brianna, Kell Tainer, and a last minute addition to the team, Shalla Nelprin, sat around the table. Runt and Elassar had both volunteered for the mission when they found out what had happened, but since Kaing-lang was Imperial world that still had a small non-human population, they had stayed behind. Face had even left Runt in charge of the squadron, and Runt displayed a “command” mind that suddenly began bossing Elassar around, to much amusement.   
  
“Here’s the plan,” Face said, showing a layout of the facility on the datapad. “Brianna can slice into the secondary data net from this outer station here. It’ll send the entire place into lockdown.”   
  
“Won’t that make it more or less harder for us to get around?” Kell asked.   
  
“Not really,” Brianna said. “I can’t get into the central data net from this substation, but by setting the lockdown from here, it means with a little extra finesse, I get to pick the codes. No one is going to be able to get around but us.”   
  
“All we have to do is proceed to the central data net, here,” Face said, changing the image, “which will tell us where Hobbie and Inyri are being held, let us get them out, and then we get ourselves out. Easy.”   
  
Brianna looked at him. “You _had_ to say that, didn’t you?”   
  
“What?” Face said, looking somewhat mystified.   
  
“Easy. Now you’ve gone and jinxed it.” She threw up her hands. “Well, you’ve just made this harder than it needed to be.”   
  
“What?” Face said again, incredulous.   
  
Kell choked back a laugh as he picked up his glass, and Janson simply rolled his eyes. Brianna and Face hadn’t been married long, and were apparently still in the adjustment phase.   
  
As Brianna and Face began to good-naturedly bicker and Kell began to offer comments that were not helping Face at all, Janson sat back, ignoring the conversation. He stared at his glass for a moment before he realized that Shalla was barely taking part in the repartee. Her gaze was fixed upon him. “What?” he said quietly.   
  
“We’re going to find them,” she said. “I promise.”   
  
“I’ve no doubt that we’ll find them,” Wes said, setting down his drink. “It’s whether we find them alive or not that I’m worried about.”   
  
***   
  
Hobbie paced inside the cage. That was, in essence, what it was. The cell, a rectangular thing with one extra-long cot and the necessary essentials, was otherwise bare. One of the long walls was protected by a force-field, and outside that were guards. There were two more detention cells on either side of him that Hobbie could see from his vantage point as he made another turn about the cell, but with the guards there, he didn’t even have the opportunity to really examine the cell for a way to escape.   
  
Even if he had, he’d been fitted with a restraining collar. Clasped around his neck, if he so much as moved forward when they delivered what they called meals, he got a shock that would lay him out for at least ten minutes. He’d learned that the hard way. When they’d dragged Inyri out, he’d laid there on the floor for at least an hour.   
  
Now, he stopped pacing as they half-carried her back. He stood perfectly still as they dropped the force field and tossed her inside.   
  
He’d already been through this, the interrogation droid and the pummeling afterwards when he knew nothing. Hobbie was sure that his eye was black, and he still had blood on his face from his nose. The force field pinged back into existence, and he hurried over to Inyri, picking her up off the floor.   
  
She’d fared far worse than he. Her beautiful dress was in tatters, and scratches ran down her arms. Her face exhibited signs of more bruising than he had, and instead of the crystal she’d worn around her neck, she, too, was wearing one of the restraining collars.   
  
Hobbie pulled the blanket off the bed, wrapping it around her shivering body before gently sitting down with her on the bed. “Inyri? Inyri, look at me.”   
  
Her teeth were chattering, and she spat blood out onto the floor. “Hobbie—“ she sputtered.   
  
He wrapped his arms around her. “I know. I know.”   
  
“They’re going to kill us,” she said. “As soon as they crack the codes on that crystal, they’re going to kill us.”   
  
He pulled her closer to him, until she was nearly sitting in his lap, letting her rest her head against his chest. “I know,” he said softly.   
  
“I didn’t want to go out like this,” Inyri said.   
  
“Could be worse,” Hobbie said, resting his head against hers. “Could be in here with Bristles.”   
  
She choked out part of a laugh. “If I have sit up for my own wake, you’ll do. At least you won’t try to get me to sleep with you because we’re about to die.”   
  
He closed his eyes and held her close. “No, I won’t.” 

***   
  
It was cold. Hobbie had stripped off his suit coat and made Inyri put it over her bare shoulders. They’d curled up into a two person ball, Hobbie, holding Inyri, his arms underneath the coat to keep his hands warm. The blanket was draped across their legs, and they huddled together as closely as they could.   
  
They’d deprived them of any more food or water. The water was fine when it was this cold, but when the temperature changed in the cell to the point it was so hot it was painful to touch the metal walls, Inyri would have killed for something to drink. The lights were horribly bright, and every once in a while, they’d set off a siren for kicks.   
  
Inyri’s teeth were chattering. Her feet were folded up underneath her and she had carefully draped her dress the best she could to cover as much of her as possible. “I’m ready for heat now. I can handle dying of thirst. Not so much with the frostbite.”   
  
Hobbie sniffed. His nose was running, and he leaned his head over to wipe it on his sleeve, being short a handkerchief. His hands were cold against her back.   
  
“Ew,” Inyri said. “You have snot on your shoulder.”   
  
He made a disgusting noise in the back of his throat. “Least I didn’t sneeze it all over you.”   
  
“Sorry about that,” she said, looking down.   
  
She felt his chest rumble with laughter. “Don’t worry. I don’t think these clothes can be saved anyway.”   
  
He was right. One sleeve was torn, and there were blood stains—his own blood—on his shirt. His pants were too dark for her to see the damage to them, but she imagined there were more of the same. His face was blooming shades of green and purple, and she shook her head. “The crystal must be taking them longer to decode than they thought,” she said.   
  
“They don’t have the kinds of slicers the Republic does,” Hobbie said. “You know they can’t be using the best the Imperials have, either.”   
  
Shivering, Inyri worked her hands under his shirt until she met warm skin. “I wish they’d hurry up.”   
  
Hobbie’s voice took on a peculiar quality. “So do I.”   
  
***   
  
Brianna hacked into the station with relative ease. Thirty seconds later, the base was in lockdown. The quiet belied the mayhem that was sure to begin soon, but for the moment, they all looked at her.   
  
“Shouldn’t there be sirens or something?” Face asked. “Announcing that there’s a lockdown?”   
  
Brianna shrugged. “You said lockdown. I put it in lockdown. If there’s not sirens, it’s not my problem.”   
  
A pleasant tone met their ears. “Now hear this, now hear this. This base is in lockdown mode. Repeat, this base is in lockdown mode. Secure your stations and await further orders.”   
  
Face sputtered. “Where are the kriffing sirens? Who goes into lockdown mode with a protocol droid’s voice? Where is their pride?”   
  
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, would you hush?” Brianna said, turning her attention back to her slicing. “We need codes. Everybody, give me your lifeday.”   
  
They started listing them off, one after another, and Brianna strung them together in one long string, scrambled it, and sent it into the computer. “Let’s see them slice that one anytime soon. I’m ready. Let’s go.”   
  
Janson led point, his marksman skills allowing him to quickly and quietly stun anyone he saw before they could alert anyone to their presence. Brianna’s lockdown had caused every door in the base to slam shut, keeping everyone where they ought to be, and the only people they had to worry about were the ones wandering the hallways.   
  
There was relatively little resistance until they got to main control center. “We’ve got to get in there,” Brianna said. “I can’t release the cells except from in there.”   
  
“Well, stand back,” Face said, putting himself slightly in front of her. “We’ll take care of everybody inside.”   
  
“Try not to shoot the equipment. I need it.”   
  
“Just open the door,” Janson said, raising his blaster. “I’ve got this.”   
  
Rolling her eyes, Brianna stood back, and with a few deft keystrokes, entered her code in. The door slid open.   
  
Wes moved forward, shooting without mercy or regret, and his blaster wasn’t set to stun. Kell and Face moved behind him as Shalla and Brianna guarded the hallway. There were four men in the room. Three of them fell immediately.   
  
“Wes, no!” Kell yelled. The big man shouldered into Wes, knocking off his aim, and his fourth blaster shot hit the last man in the shoulder, rather than in the middle of the chest. “Force, Wes, put your blaster on stun. We aren’t here to kill everyone in sight.”   
  
Face gave a sharp whistle, and Shalla and Brianna hurried into the room. “The ruckus alerted some people down the hall,” Brianna said, yanking the survivor out of the chair without ceremony. Shalla took up a position by the door. Brianna started tapping the keys as Face and Kell ducked their heads out the door. Blaster shots pinged.   
  
“Thanks a lot!” Kell said. “Now you’ve got them angry!”   
  
Shalla popped her head around the door, firing off several rounds. “Shut up and shoot, Tainer.”   
  
Janson stood over Brianna’s shoulder as she sliced into the system. “Here we go,” she said. The monitor suddenly showed a picture of Hobbie and Inyri huddled together on the cot. “Stars, it’s below freezing in there,” Brianna said. She tapped a few keys. “The temperature is going up in there, now. I’ve got audio and visual now. It’s going to take me a minute to release the force fields in there.”   
  
The coughing of the officer on the floor caught Janson’s attention. He almost laughed. “The audio has been interesting.”   
  
Wes turned around, training his blaster on the man. “Shut up.”   
  
“Did you know your wife slept with your best friend?” the man coughed. “Did you know that?”   
  
“Shut up,” Wes said.   
  
The officer coughed again. “She did. They talked about it. It was only the twice, you sap.”   
  
Wes heard Brianna snort behind him. “You Imps are pathological liars.”   
  
“He doesn’t think so,” the Imp said.   
  
Brianna turned her attention back towards the computer, and Wes turned away from the Imp in the floor. His eyes tracked towards the image of Inyri and Hobbie, curled up in one another’s arms in a way that suggested previous practice at getting comfortable with one another, and the way that Hobbie was looking at Inyri was positively territorial.   
  
“Got it,” Brianna announced. The image of Hobbie looked up, nudging Inyri, and they rose. “Come on, we’ve got to get them before anyone else does. Let’s go, people!”   
  
Kell and Face had begun clearing the hall, advancing down and Shalla wasn’t far behind them. The Imp was still coughing and laughing. Brianna had almost made it back to the door when she heard one last blaster shot ring out in the control room. “Wes?”   
  
“Not a word, Brianna,” he said. “Let’s go.”   
  
***   
  
The air began to warm, and Hobbie opened his eyes to look at Inyri. He couldn’t tell by any reasonable estimate how long it had been cold in there, but now that it was starting to warm back up, it meant that their interrogators would be back. Inyri was finally asleep for a few moments, and he glanced down at her.   
  
Their imprisonment had hardly been comfortable, in more ways than one. Inyri had caught him looking at her again, in the same manner she’d caught him looking at her in the hotel, and his feelings were out in the open once again. He couldn’t help it, though. He’d always been this way—when he fell, he fell hard. Inyri had been the first person he’d seriously considered being in a relationship since Jeni had died.   
  
The ping made him look up, and the sheen of the force field was suspiciously absent. “Inyri,” he hissed. “Inyri, wake up.”   
  
She stirred under his arm. “What?”   
  
“Come on. We’re getting out of here,” he said, helping her to her feet.   
  
Inyri followed him from there. Blaster fire was ringing out in the distance, and Hobbie stepped out of the cell, Inyri not far behind him. The attention of their guards was elsewhere. The nearest one held up his blaster rifle in the direction of the noise and never saw Hobbie coming.   
  
He slammed his elbow down at the base of the guard’s neck, and he dropped like a stone. Hobbie picked up the blaster rifle and tossed it to Inyri. She moved forward and stunned the next one, leaving Hobbie to pick up another weapon.   
  
“Hobbie!” Inyri said, pushing him to the left out of the way. She fired twice down the hallway, taking out an Imperial officer. Hobbie raised his blaster to take out the next one when he fell on his own.   
  
Holding back against the wall, they waited as a figure in black walked around the corner. “Face?” Inyri said.   
  
“We’ve got them!” Face yelled, and Hobbie dropped his blaster to his side as more black-clad figures turned the corner. Inyri stopped, her entire posture taking on one of relief as she ran down the corridor, straight into Wes Janson’s arms.   
  
*** 

Face, Kell and Brianna were in the cockpit of their escape shuttle, ensuring a clean getaway, as the rest of them sat back in the general crew area. Shalla was breaking out the first aid kit for the abused Inyri and Hobbie, and Wes was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. Other than the brief moment when he’d pulled Inyri to him, holding her close in relief, he’d let her go. Her ribs were too bruised and cracked for him to put much pressure on her anyway, and she was lying on the sofa in the common area, watching him as if she was afraid he would disappear. “We’ve made a clean getaway,” he said. “Kell’s flying, and Brianna said something about she and Face being in their bunk until we reached Coruscant.”   
  
Hobbie coughed as Shalla felt along his ribs, trying to assess the damage done to him. “Did we get the crystal back?”   
  
Shalla shook her head. “No. Brianna hunted for it in the system, but they’d already transferred it to another facility. Our orders weren’t to get it unless it was reasonably easy to do so, though.” She pressed a particularly sore spot on Hobbie’s chest and he wheezed. “The two of you were our first priority.”   
  
“I’m surprised Cracken felt that way,” Inyri remarked from her place on the sofa. Shalla got up and moved to her first aid kit, and smiled.   
  
“I think your husband had something to do with changing his mind,” she said.   
  
Wes stirred from his spot at the doorway. “Hey, Hobbs?”   
  
His friend turned on the bar stool to look at him. Hobbie’s face was still a mass of bruises. “Yeah?”   
  
“Tell me something,” Wes said, his voice deeply contemplative. His arms were still crossed, and he was studying his boots with great interest. “Did you sleep with my wife?”   
  
Dead quiet fell over the room. Even the noise of the engines seemed to disappear in that moment as the question hung in the air, and Wes met his friend’s gaze and he _knew_.   
  
There wasn’t any point in denying it. Hobbie didn’t know how Wes had found out, but he wouldn’t have put it past Cracken to have told him. “Wes—“ he started, his voice hoarse. “I never thought—“   
  
“No,” Wes said, his face suddenly flushed with anger. “I don’t imagine you _thought_.” He was in motion, too fast for Shalla to stop him. Hobbie might have seen it coming, and if he did, he didn’t move.   
  
Hobbie fell to the floor, his hand to his broken nose. Wes had been merciful and not dislocated his jaw. Inyri was on her feet, half-pleading. “Wes!”   
  
He turned on her, his tone accusing. “Don’t even, Inyri. I trusted you.”   
  
Shalla knelt by Hobbie’s side, helping stem the flow of blood, and Inyri followed him from the common area out into the hall, still limping herself. “Wes, please, stop. Wait.”   
  
“Give me a reason why, Inyri,” he said, turning on his heel. “Give me a reason that I should listen to a damn thing that you have to say right now.”   
  
“Because I love you?” she said, the words sounding pitiful coming from her mouth. “Would you stop and listen to me for five minutes, Wes? Please?”   
  
“So you can justify this to me, Inyri?” he said. “It wasn’t enough that you had to cheat on me. You couldn’t just settle for some guy that you picked up in a bar. You had to go for the gut, didn’t you? You had to go for Hobbie, because that would be the one way to make sure everybody got hurt, wouldn’t it?”   
  
Tears were streaming down her face. “Do you want me to admit that I screwed up? I screwed up, Wes. I screwed up bad. Maybe too badly to fix this time. But do you want to hear what happened?”   
  
“No,” he said. “I think I’ll leave the sordid details between you and my so-called best friend.” He turned his back to her, leaving her standing in the hallway.   
  
She reached out, yanking him around with surprising strength. “You’re going to listen to me, Wes Janson, because it was not listening to one another that got us in this mess in the first place. I’m not sleeping with Hobbie _now_. It was four years ago, when we split up, and we were drunk.”   
  
“So you’re blaming this all on me?” Wes shot back.   
  
“No,” Inyri said. “I’m trying to tell you something, if you’ll shut up long enough to listen to me. After I left you, I was lost. And Hobbie was there. And you of all people know how much he was suffering back then after he lost Jeni. And I thought that you were having an affair.” She took a deep breath. “Yes, I meant to hurt you then. When I found out what was happening, with you and Mephonda, and that you were working for Intelligence, I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t say anything. I didn’t go back to Hobbie and I didn’t go back to you. Until you almost died, Wes.” The tears were streaming down her face in earnest now. “Please, Wes. I don’t want to lose you again.”   
  
He held up his hands in frustration. “I don’t know, Inyri. I have no idea what to think right now.” He turned around, heading for the cockpit, leaving her in the hallway.   
  
Inyri sunk against the bulkhead, hanging her head. Her chest hurt, as if her heart was physically breaking. She didn’t look up until the female voice spoke. “You know, Wes and I dated when we were in the Wraiths and for a little while afterwards. And while you all were split up, I tried to get him to start that back up.”   
  
Shalla shook her head, looking at Inyri. “He wouldn’t do it. He was still so in love with you. Did you know that he spent a week in the Coruscant underground after he got the divorce papers and we reactivated him to make sure he didn’t get himself killed? That’s what he was trying to do, you know. Make you a widow.”   
  
“Go to hell, Shalla,” Inyri said, drying her tears in her anger. “This isn’t any of your business.”   
  
“Yes, it is,” the other woman said. “I spent a long time being in love with Wes Janson, and you’re throwing away what I would have been glad to have. I fought to keep him, Inyri, and I lost. To you.”   
  
“I guess the better woman won,” Inyri said, feeling the anger continue to rise up in her chest.   
  
Shalla turned to go back to the common area. “That’s debatable.” She twisted around. “There’s some fresh clothing for you in the bunks. You might want to change. Your pretty dress is ruined.”   
  
Inyri watched her disappear, and realized there was nothing else she could do at the moment but what Shalla had suggested. Quietly passing through the section where Face and Brianna were attempting to unobtrusively share a bunk, she continued through to an unoccupied section. Fresh clothing was laid out—Wes had brought some along from home, and Inyri wriggled out of her dress. Lying it out on the bunk, she put on the pants and shirt and tugged on the boots in the floor before picking her dress back up from the bed and looking at it sadly. It was indeed ruined, and no amount of tailoring was going to be able to fix it.   
  
“I bought you that dress,” Wes said quietly.   
  
She turned her head to see him standing there. “Right after we got married. I love this dress.” Inyri ran her hand down the ruined and torn fabric.   
  
“I’ll get you a new one,” he said, his voice still quiet.   
  
She closed her eyes, holding the dress to her heart. “It won’t be the same.”   
  
“No,” he admitted. “But I’d like to get it for you, if you’d let me.”   
  
Inyri opened her eyes. “I’d love it.” 

***   
  
They’d been home for four days before people decided it was safe to try to come over. It hadn’t been a particularly comfortable four days, but it hadn’t been entirely uncomfortable either.   
  
After a brief stint in the medical ward, Inyri had been released into Wes’ care with a few bacta patches slapped over a couple of the worse scratches. It had been evening, and they’d gone to bed. Sleeping in the same bed was slightly awkward, as they weren’t really touching. They woke up the next morning back to back, and both of them were freezing because Wes had accidentally left on the air conditioning.   
  
It took until the fourth morning before Inyri woke up and Wes’ arm was protectively draped around her middle.   
  
They’d spent their days quietly. She’d left the vid off and didn’t even think about turning _Coruscant Hourly_ on. Inyri curled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket and read. Wes told the teachers at the school that they were going to have to go a few more days without him, and had spent an afternoon arranging the pictures the kids had sent home with him on the refrigeration unit door. Inyri took the one with the crayon picture of them holding hands with the X-wings in the background and got a frame for it.   
  
“Wes?”   
  
Wes turned his head to look at her. “Yes?”   
  
Inyri looked up from the text message she’d just received. “Come here and look at this, please.”   
  
Setting down his preparations for lunch, Wes walked over to their comm unit and read the message over her shoulder. “Wow.”   
  
She raised an eyebrow. “Wow is all you can say?”   
  
He turned around to head back for the kitchen. “I knew Gavin wanted you to take over as the Rogue’s second-in-command, but when you decided to retire, he started looking again. I guess he decided to give it one last try.”   
  
She bit her lip, looking at the message. “What do you think?”   
  
He stopped what he was doing again. “You’re serious.”   
  
She nodded. “I—Wes, I don’t know how we’re going to get through this. But this dancing around one another isn’t going to work. And I’m afraid—“ Inyri paused. “I’m afraid, Wes.”   
  
Wes walked back into the living room and knelt down beside her chair. “What are you afraid of?”   
  
“Of this,” she whispered. “Wes—I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when I retire. I don’t know if I’ll be a good teacher to the kids the way you want me to be.” She gently touched his face. “You’re a wonderful teacher—and you’d have been a wonderful father, Wes. I don’t know that I would have been as wonderful a parent as you are.”   
  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, grasping her hand. “Of course you would have.”   
  
“Wes, I don’t have the courage you do to suddenly get up and change my life. I’ve already done it once. I don’t know that I can do it again.” She sighed. “Not right now.”   
  
He put her hand in between both of his. “You really want to rejoin the Rogues.”   
  
“It’s what I know how to do, Wes,” she said. “It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I know I’m good at.”   
  
Wes studied her face for a moment. “You’ve got all your retirement time in,” he said. “If you change your mind, all you have to do is resign your commission.”   
  
She nodded. “I know. So when I am ready to make this change, I can.”   
  
“You better tell Gavin,” he said.   
  
She leaned her forehead against his. “Gavin can wait until tomorrow.”   
  
The doorbell rang as they cleaned up after lunch, and Wes went to answer the door. Inyri looked up from her spot in the kitchen as Hobbie reluctantly entered the apartment. He hesitated before he spoke. “I just wanted to tell you all that I was leaving.”   
  
Inyri stepped around the counter to Wes’ side. “You’re leaving?”   
  
He nodded. “I’m going back to Ralltiir. My folks are still there, and they’ve been nagging me to come back for a while.” He took in a deep breath. “Now seems like a good time. I just—wanted to tell you both.”   
  
“What about your book?” Wes asked, the expression on his face neutral.   
  
“I can write it there,” Hobbie said. “And my agent still insists I make regular trips back to Coruscant to meet with him. He seems to think shuttle flights are cheaper than HoloNet calls.” He shrugged. “As soon as this one is finished, I’ve got an option on a fiction book I’ve been wanting to write for a while, so I’ll be pretty busy.”   
  
Wes nodded, before stepping forward and extending his hand. “Good luck, Hobbie.”   
  
Hobbie took Wes’ outstretched hand. “Thanks.” His gaze flicked to Inyri, and she stepped forward to give him an awkward hug. “I’ll be going. I’ve got packing still to do.”   
  
He was almost to the door when Wes spoke up. “Hobbie?”   
  
The man turned around. “Yeah?”   
  
Wes looked at the floor. “If you need a place to stay when you visit or something when you’re here—“   
  
A shadow of a smile crossed Hobbie’s face. “You’ll be the first person I call.”   
  
The door shut behind Hobbie, and Wes turned around. Inyri smiled gently at him, and they went to finish cleaning up from lunch.   
  
***   
  



End file.
